Riptide
by Llewellwyn Mephistopheles III
Summary: When Kiandra, goddess of Water is awakened from a millennia long slumber all she can think of is revenge until a Lykae nearly as old as her derails her plans. Based in the IAD universe, though I am taking many liberties.
1. Chapter 1

"Shut up, Aven!" hissed the great God of the Earth, Caius, through his teeth. Ignoring his demand, Aven, Goddess of the Air, continued to idly pick her nails and mumble on about how some little up start by the name of Achilles was ignoring her advances.

She continued: "I mean really now, here I was about ready to give him the gift of flight, do you know how many people I have given flight to? None, that's right, none. And what does he do? Spurns me to hang out with some other mortal, here I am, abandoned for someone five thousand years younger."

With a sigh Caius tuned her out and returned to the task at hand. He was constructing a city, a great city, in the middle of the freaking Amazon. Not the easiest thing to do. Especially given that the water to land ratio seemed to be a million to one. Nevertheless he we determined, Kiandra, his other sister and Goddess of Water, had to be stopped! Ever since humans had begun to show and interest in sea travel she had been throwing fits, causing storms and tsunamis, and just wreaking general havoc. Therefore it had been decided by Aven, Brant (God of Fire), and himself that she should be locked away for her own good and the good of the rest of the world. And while Aven and Brant we all for the plan, all of the heavy lifting fell on Caius' own shoulders. Thankfully the city was almost done. Now it was just a matter of luring her here. He had been toying with the idea of sinking her favorite city, Atlantis. With any luck, such an act would provoke her into seeking him out…

"Come on Caius, how long does it take to make a pit?" Obviously Aven had gotten bored with his lack of responses.

"Last time I checked earth was rather heavier that air. But please feel free to help"

"Bah, I just got the earth out from under my nails, why would I get them dirty again?"

"Then _shut up_." Besides he was almost… "Done!"

"Finally, I was beginning to think that you were actually serious about wanting my help."

"No, I would never ask for you to _help_," replied Caius, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Good, glad we understand each other!" Said Aven as she jumped from the tree she had been perched in. "Now all that's left is its future Queen; any ideas on how to get her here?"

"I have just the thing." Caius murmured. And with a malicious smile they both vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

Kiandra was just getting settled into her throne in Atlantis and ready to hear today's issues when a small tremor began to shake the city. With a glare she stood, threw back her hair and strode across the opulent audience hall to throw open the heavy doors and look over the city. The sight there baffled her, Atlantis was _sinking_. How? This was her city! Shouting out orders she pushed her way through the crowd of Lore beings and to the center of the city. Once there she began to hold back the water. But still Atlantis sunk. All the while the pushing, shoving and screaming of the remaining creatures intensified, the vampires and all others who could trace had already fled. Kiandra felt a tug at her skirt and glancing down she saw a tiny Lykae, not more than two, his eyes turned pure blue from fear. Cursing, Kiandra gathered the small child in one arm and waded through the crowd to the huge fountain that was lay in the middle of the square. Setting down the child she removed her toga to reveal an intricate gold breast plate, a piece of linen wrapped around her to form a sort of skirt and a gold girdle dripping with gems. Handing her toga to the boy she dove into the fountain. There she allowed her power to flow through the water and infused it with the ability to protect Atlantis and hold off the encroaching ocean. As long as the fountain continued to function Atlantis would be safe. Getting out of the pool, Kiandra, wrung her hair and donned her toga then turned her attention back to the tot.

"Where are your parents little one?" By now the child had calmed as was staring expectantly at her.

"Scot-wand" Despite the screams and turmoil Kiandra couldn't help but smile at that. Squatting down so she was now eye-level with the child she brushed some dirt from his face and said.

"I am Kiandra, what is your name?"

"Lachlain," came the proud reply

"Well Lachlain, would you like to go to Scotland?" She inquired. He nodded enthusiastically

Laughing, Kiandra once again gathered him into her arms and they adjourned to Scotland.


	3. Chapter 3

The air was muggy and thick when Kiandra materialized within the Amazon jungle. It had taken her nearly half a year to track down the fiend who had sunk her precious Atlantis and it had shaken her to her core to learn it was her own brother. Naturally they had played some jokes on each other over the millennia, but sinking Atlantis went way beyond a joke. Kiandra she was out for blood. It was with vengeance on her mind that she took stock of her surroundings. Caius's choice of the Amazon as their battleground baffled Kiandra. As the goddess of water, she held the obvious advantage. Then again, she was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Good Lord, Kiandra, is that what they were wearing in Atlantis? You look like a common whore. Maybe it is a good thing Caius sunk it." The drawl came from behind her as Aven emerged from the shadows. The past six months had not been kind to Kiandra. Her toga had fallen into a state of miserable disrepair. She was left in her golden breastplate and linen skirt that she feared was revealing far more than it was concealing. But if _she_ looked like a whore then she wasn't sure what Aven looked like. The goddess of air wore a strip of leather bound several times around her chest, forcing her breasts to squish out the top. A pair of mini-shorts, also leather, cut off just above mid-thigh clothed her lower half. The whole ensemble was obviously designed to flaunt her more than abundant curves.

"I knew you would come around." Kiandra's attention was diverted as Caius emerged from the shadows as well and stood next to Aven. Both wore looks of utter contempt, and beneath it flickered something akin to anticipation. Putting it aside, Kiandra turned toward her brother.

"I have not come here for conversation, _brother_," she spat venomously.

"Yes, I expected as much," her male sibling replied. "Contrary to your belief, I did not come here to fight you; Aven if you would?"

Turing her attention back to Aven, Kiandra barely caught the look of malice before she was flung backward. She screwed her eyes shut as she waited for the inevitable impact. When it did not immediately come she blinked in confusion. She registered the huge walls whizzing past her, then she finally impacted. She felt her skull crack and the blood begin to flow; she then thankfully lost consciousness.

When Kiandra came to she was laid out in what appeared to be a gold sarcophagus. The blood had been washed from her long hair and the tattered cotton of her garb replaced by new fabric. She also noted that she wore several unfamiliar rings. Glancing around she found that she lay in a large chamber filled to the brim with Atlantis' entire trove of gold. All things considered it was not a bad lot, until she heard the screams. Those bone chilling screams could only mean one thing: Wendigos.

A/N: I would love any feedback!


	4. Chapter 4

His feet slapped against the cold stone floors with purpose, each step echoing off the dank walls. Erie light seeped inward and cast disfigured shadows across the grim façade. Voices emanated from the walls, saying nothing in particular, incessant enough to make a lesser man insane. At one point long past, Dubric imagined that he must have been scared. No more, now he was just tired. It had been two thousand years since Dubric had journeyed to the Underworld looking for excitement and adventure; anything to break the monotony of life. And while he had not found what he was looking for, he had found enough to sustain him. He had found enough to give his life meaning and stave off the constant thought about the End—he didn't think on it as much as he once had. He had become the Assassin of Death. Anyone or anything that threatened Death's absolute control was either killed outright or hauled, kicking and screaming, back to the Underworld.

The massive stone doors that guarded the entry to the throne room swung open discordantly at Dubric's approach. The pungent and stagnate smell of Death washed over him, raising the hackles on the back of his neck. He paid little regard to the noble demons, who, in Dubric's opinion, spent far too much time mulling about the court of Death and nowhere near enough time tending their respective dukedoms. Approaching the stone dais, Dubric gave the requisite half bow and glanced up. The gaunt albeit beautiful face of death stared down at him atop its skeletal body sprawled across the stone throne. Shadows with a mind of their own played across the room, writhing and squirming, simulating near life then disappearing. The courtly demons that stood about the room, dressed in their gruesome best, shifted uneasily. Who was truly comfortable in the presence of Death? Even Dubric's heart raced, though he no longer feared Death as he once had.

"I have a new task for you," the lyrically rasping voice of Death declared. "The Goddess of Water has been awakened from a millennia long slumber; she will no doubt seek revenge. You must stop her. The balance of the Aboveworld must be preserved." The ghoulish skeleton awaited acknowledgement of its command.

With another bow, Dubric turned on his heel and strode across the room.

"And Dubric," the skeletal one droned, "be careful."

Pausing, Dubric recognized Death's forewarning, as was his due, and continued on. Dubric himself was excited for the first time in over sixty years. The last time he had been above ground was to kill some pesky German human who had nearly managed to take over all of Europe. The emasculated mortal had proved hardly a challenge. With any luck this Goddess would prove more so.


	5. Chapter 5

"_What are we going to do about the great evil getting her finger broken off? Also, I am going to go out on a limb and say we probably got water in there on the _watchers._ Three out of three house rules broken._"  
-Pleasure of a Dark Prince (pg. 356)

TWO WEEKS LATER

The surge of bodies nearly overwhelmed Kiandra as she struggled to get through the throng. In the two weeks since she had escaped unconsciousness in her water-less prison, she had come to the realization that humanity had changed in unimaginably gruesome ways. They shun the elements and obliterate their environment with little regard but for themselves. They lace themselves into bazaar clothing and remain deaf to their true nature. Or so she thought before that night. With a metallic, thrumming beat and screeching vocals, four motley men led the swarm of people into an animalistic chaos only humans would call 'dancing'. Therefore it was not surprising that this was where she had tracked Caius. Unfortunately, she could not pinpoint him exactly as his energy permeated the entire place. Stepping back as a clearly inebriated man hurled himself toward the front of the stage slurring something enthusiastically, Kiandra continued to the place dubbed 'back stage'.

Dubric watched as the lithe form of the Goddess weaved through the crowd, skillfully avoiding the flailing humans. She was rather petite for such a powerful being. Though a little over average height she was of slender build and finely muscled. If not for concentration and the rage that blazed from her, he would have doubted that she was in fact his target. It seemed a pity to kill such a fine creature, her long auburn hair complemented her large sea green eyes to produce perfection. With a sigh Dubric shifted his weight from one foot to the other and waited for her to make her way back stage. Caius, like the coward he was, had snuck out the back doors of the warehouse before the opening band had even gone on. Dubric had then paid a healthy sum to a greasy-handed mortal to keep this area clear. When the Goddess finally arrived, they would be alone, for better or for worse.

A/N: Sorry this is so short. I am still trying to figure out where I am going with this. Any ideas or comments are welcome! Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Getting out of the mosh-pit had been a test of Kiandra will to the fullest. It was pure determination that had kept her from calling up the nearby ocean and flooding the place. The compressing of humans had nearly squashed her flat on multiple occasions and she was sure that somewhere along the line her ribs had been broken. At long last she reached the back stage area; it was dim and deserted with a preemptive stillness about it. Discarding her instinctual repulse she squared her shoulder, trying not to wince as this action pulled on her still healing ribs, and ventured forth into the darkness. Naught more than a few feet later she caught the scent of a Lykae, and no sooner then she had smelled him then his massive form appeared from the shadows. He was handsome, even more so than the other Lykae that had been in residence in Atlantis; he had a chiseled jaw line and the rough, not quite clean shaven look that Kiandra adored, however it was the cleft chin and hit of dimples that made her knees weak. In fact, if she was not currently on a mission then she might consider seducing the man, as it was however she had more important matters. Quickly side stepping she attempted to move around him, nonetheless disobliging he followed her movements and his mass once again blocked her path. Trying again to side step him she found herself once again thwarted. With an impatient tisk she glance up to his face, humor sparkled in his eyes and a smile spread wide across his face, revealing the dimples that she had suspected (it took considerable effort for Kiandra not to poke them), underneath the smile though was what she suspected was desire. The first emotion was expected the latter not so much, both did not suit her purposes. She was on a mission; Caius needed to be punished, to endure what she had endured. Just thinking of the vile fiend was enough to make her want to disembowel or impale something. That thought firmly in her mind she once again tried to shove past the smiling Laykae, she was once again met with no success, her actions did provoke his speech however

"Going somewhere wee one?" His deep, heavily accented voice rumbled from his chest.

"Yes actually, now if you would be so kind as to move" Kiandra stepped back gesturing politely for him to step aside. This only managed to cause more laughter on his part and to deepen the scowl marring Kiandra's brow.

"You see I would love to move and allow you on your merry way, only I can't."

"Can't or won't?'

"Both" he said with a roguish smile. Closing her eyes and counting to three Kiandra tried to control her temper, telling herself that he was just another roadblock to be dealt with and not to overreact. Taking advantage of her closed eyes the Lykae swooped down and with no further ado hoisted her over his shoulder and began to make his way to a room labeled 'dressing room'. Counting this time to ten and breathing deeply she once again reminded herself that he wasn't worth it; however when he laid a possessive hand across her ass it was the final straw. Letting her senses flow out she felt his blood pulsing through his body, letting her power seep through him she slowed the pumping blood, slower and slower until at last his towering form collapsed. Catching herself before her face made an unceremonious meeting with the ground Kiandra carefully extricated herself from the unconscious Laykae. Dusting off her new jeans she made her way further into the darkness of this back stage.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I have no idea of any of these things would really happen if your heart stopped then restarted, but it makes sense in my mind so please humor me :) Also sorry this chapter has taken so long, I blame the usual: school.

Waking up on the cold concrete floor of the concert venue was unpleasant to say the least. Dubric's head and knees throbbed from where they had met rather violently with the floor and every part of his body ached from where the blood had stagnated. Of all the times he had suffered mortal death over past eons this had to be one of the most painful. Even recovering from massive blood loss was not quite as bad. If he lost large quantities of blood, all that he had to do was replace what he had lost. In the case of his blood simply ceasing all movement, it had settled and accumulated in his capillaries, causing many of them to rupture from the pressure. Even now he could see the blue spider webs pervading his hand as it rested next to his face. He could feel his heart beating irregularly, trying desperately to circulate the deoxygenated blood. With a grunt he closed his eyes and willed his body to heal faster.

The wee slip of a Goddess had admittedly caught him off guard. If time had taught him anything it was to never underestimate his opponent. Nonetheless when he had finally caught her scent, though rather muted and concealed by the thousands of sweaty humans, he found himself with the odd desire to fling her over his shoulder and cart her away. Therefore when she neared he found himself stepping out to confront her, forgoing his customary sneak attack. He had found her persistence to evade him rather charming. It had been, quite literally, centuries since anyone had bothered to say nay to him. During all of her attempts to side step him he had finally caught a good whiff of her scent. Somewhere deep down inside, a beast slowly awakened, roused by the fresh, slightly ocean like scent that pervaded Dubric's nostrils. Hence, when her expression darkened in obvious aggravation, he saw an opening. Giving into temptation he hauled her over his shoulder. He was surprised at first when she did not resist and took it as indication of her surrender, taking leave to caress her round behind gloriously displayed over his right shoulder. It was a scant step later that he felt the first wavering beats of his slowing heart. Black dots appeared in his vision and merged. He felt the world shift around him and suddenly felt no more. It was a nasty trick, but she was the Goddess of Water. He supposed that he should have expected her to use the water in his blood against him.

As the pain of healing slowly receded he managed to lever himself off his left arm, thankfully restoring circulation to his abused limbs. He stared up at the ceiling. In the distance he could still hear the pounding of the band and the dull roar of the crowd. It had taken him two weeks and nearly two grand in bribe money to get him enough information to track Caius and Kiandra to this location. While the money wasn't a problem, the time was. The longer he waited to subdue the Goddess, the closer she came to her brother and the closer he came to failing his mission. He refused to accept failure. Deciding that the pain had ebbed enough, Dubric pushed himself up into a sitting position, nearly collapsing again as a wave of dizziness overtook him. Refusing to acknowledge his weakness he forced his reluctant body to stand, shook out his stiff limbs and made his way into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

"You know I always had you pegged for more as a wombat sort of a person. Bats are just so, well, flighty." Nix turned around, her eyes clear and focused but not entirely there. But a slightly befuddled Nix was infinitely preferable to the alternative.

"Kiandra, say hello to Bertil otherwise you'll hurt his feelings."

Kiandra stooped to the bat's level, cooing at it as Nix had done earlier. She gave it an affectionate scratch on the head before moving to embrace Nix herself, careful of the furry lump sandwiched between them.

"How have you been these past thousand or so years? I heard Furie disappeared, I am sorry about that." Kiandra inquired. Glancing at her companion, she noticed she had once again lost Nix's attention. The woman was staring off into space and muttering in what sounded like Finnish, though Kiandra was by no means a lingual expert. Knowing there was nothing to do but wait out the storm, she linked her arm with the soothsayer and led her toward the Van Hall. Kiandra habitually avoided any Valkyrie coven— there was something about the constant lightning around the place had always wigged her out. Water was far too good a conductor for her piece of mind. She was paranoid of being struck by an errant bolt. Boom! What a painful way to die.

They cleared the trees and approached the building looming before them. Kiandra got her first good look at Van Hall. The unease she had been feeling since entering New Orleans increased sevenfold. It wasn't merely the Wraiths—though they were plenty unsettling by themselves—but something more, like the air was holding its breath. Movement along the rooftop caught Kiandra's eye. A slender figure, bow in hand, became illumined against the moon. At first she assumed that the Valkyrie had made some sort of pact with the Noble Fey, but as the creature jumped off the roof and landed gracefully in the dark grass (a maneuver that had always made Kiandra feel downright clumsy) Kiandra began to recognize a familiar head of dark hair and amber eyes.

"Lucia?" Kiandra inquired

"Yes?" She gave Kiandra a cursory glance, turning to survey Nix. She squinted at the soothsayer, no doubt trying to gauge her sanity.

"Goodness, the last time I saw you was in Vahalla," Kiandra said. "You were not more than six or seven. I was visiting Freya." The last part of the goddess' statement seemed to catch Lucia's attention. Her gaze settled on Kiandra, fixing her with that same penetrating look that she had given Nix.

"The only goddess that Freya would invite to Vahalla is Kiandra, Goddess of Water," Lucia eyed Kiandra suspiciously, unaware of her identity.

Kiandra waited for Lucia to make the connection.

Realization colored the Valkyrie's eyes. "You are Kiandra, Goddess of Water?"

"I am." She paused a moment. "Say, what were you doing on the roof with a bow?"

"I was watching for Nix," Lucia answered. "My husband wants to speak with her. He says he is too busy with 'official business' to stand look out."

"Husband?" Kiandra balked. "Whom on Earth did you get married to? When?"

"Garreth, Prince of the Lykae." Lucia said ruefully. She could not conceal the love that colored her tone.

Kiandra nodded, finally understanding the bad feeling that had been tiptoeing up her spine. The Lykae had never been high on her friend list. The incident with the Lykae at the concert in California had been taunting her. She kept wondering 'what if'? What if she had not killed him? What if she had let things progress? She largely attributed her attraction toward him to being without a man for well over a thousand years. But something continued to nag at her. What if there was something more?

Unfortunately, she didn't have time for 'something more'. She had time for revenge, and revenge only. Caius was moving further into the darkness with every passing moment. She needed to stay focused. Internally she squared her shoulders and reminded herself that she was a goddess. The Lykae were wolves, animals without power comparable to the goddesses.

"Well then," Kiandra laughed. "If you husband is in such a disagreeable state as to make his mate stand guard on the roof, we had best get Nix inside and remedy the situation."

**A/N:** I know my time line is off and unfortunately it is becoming more and more skewed so please just bear with me. As always, comments are welcome.


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as Kiandra stepped a foot inside the abused manor of Val Hall, she wished she hadn't. At her entrance, a single pair of Valkyrie eyes and four pairs of Lykae eyes lifted from the elaborate map spread across the giant dining table and settled on her with a mix of wary astonishment. Closest to her amongst the Lykae pack was the same nuisance she had confronted at the concert, and he was just as handsome as she remembered (not a good thing for her already nagging psyche). Only now he had a manic glint in his eye that boded ill for Kiandra.

"I have to say, you were the last person I expected to see walk through that door. What brings you here? Come to stop my heart again?" The Lykae loomed forward, taking up way more than his fair share of space.

"I came to see an old friend," Kiandra replied.

"I wasn't aware Valkyrie made friends with monsters," the Lykae taunted with a grimace.

"They made an exception for you I see."

"I don't kill people at will."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night. But now I tire of this conversation. Where has Nix gone?" Kiandra asked, startled to realize that the woman was no longer by her side.

"Nix? How should I know? No one's seen her for the past two weeks."

"We walked in holding…" She trialed off, realizing that Nix must have slipped away sometime before that, perhaps when she was taking with Lucia.

"Perhaps Nix is not the only one touched in the head," goaded the Lykae goaded, now towering a mere foot or so in front of her. Unfortunately, Kiandra could come up with no good response to his taunts. She fully acknowledged that being locked in a tomb for a millennia had done a number on her psyche. Tipping her head back she looked up at the towering man and found her eyes connecting with his warm amber ones. A jolt of awareness surged down her spine and the room seemed to simultaneously shrink and heat up. The impulse to jump on the man suddenly assaulted her, a dangerous impulse for one on her mission. Kiandra needed to leave, the sooner the better.

"Well, let me know if you can find Nix," she said, eager to be out of the manor. With a mock salute to all of the assembled Loreans, who were still watching her with shell-shocked expressions, Kiandra turned and made her way to the door.

"Wait, you are Kiandra, the Goddess of Water?" Another one of the assembled Lykae called out to her. With a sigh she turned back to the room, slightly worried to notice that the hulking, pain-in-her-ass Lykae had moved to follow her but had stopped when she did also. Doing her best to ignore him, she turned her attention to the Lykae that had addressed her.

"I am. What of it?" she replied, honestly curious. While she had never managed true friendship with the Lykae before her imprisonment, they had always kept and easy truce. It would be a major advantage if any alliances had survived.

"I am Lachlain, king of the Lykae. I believe you saved my life during the fall of Atlantis."

"Lachlain! Heavens how you have grown up!" Kiandra couldn't help but smile a little at that. Her last memory of the man was when he was no taller than her hip. "But then I suppose that was well over a millennia ago. How have the years treated you?"

"Well enough, of late. I have been blessed with a mate" he said as he pulled a petite, lovely blonde Valkyrie to his side. "Allow me to introduce Emmaline."

Kiandra briefly dipped her head in acknowledgement. They suited each other well and seemed happy, if their body language was anything to go by.

"You never met by brother, Garreth." Lachlain gestured to another Lykae across the table. "He was born some years after your…disappearance."

"You are Lucia's husband?" Kiandra interjected, remembering the name from her brief conversation with Lucia outside.

"I am," Garreth rumbled in confirmation.

By the time that Lachlain finished his introductions with the last Lykae, Bowen, Kiandra was only half listening. There was something wrong in the room. She couldn't pinpoint it yet, but whatever it was, it was growing stronger. Then she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She swung her head around to stare at a six-foot-tall mirror that had been previously hidden by the oversized Lykaes in the room. The disturbance was originating from there. As she watched, the surface started to bulge, and then become a goopy liquid, eventually parting to allow a striking redhead to enter the room. Bowen immediately scoped her into a hug. She must be his mate then.

"And allow me to introduce Mariketa, Queen of Reflections," Lachlain's voice cut in.

"Charmed," Kiandra said. "But now I have to ask. I know Lykae are a social bunch, but do you usually all congregate around a war map or did I walk in on some plotting?"

"We were going to search for you," Lachlain said, seeming slightly embarrassed. "Well, not you exactly. Dubric would not tell us exactly who he was searching for."

"Ah, then it seems I saved you some trouble. Now, Dubric is it? What did you want with me?" She turned to face him. Better to get the confrontation over quickly than try to postpone it.

"Now ye talk to me? What happened to all the 'move out of my way or I'll kill you'?"

"You are right. I have little enough time to spare and you are wasting it. So I suggest that you speak your peace, or I shall take my leave and you shall not be able to find me again," Kiandra vented in clipped tones.

A low growl issued from Dubric as he ran his fingers through his hair. The man seemed to be to fighting a minor battle within himself. With another growl, he finally uttered, "Outside, I will speak to you in private." Then without waiting for her response, he grabbed her elbow and marched to the door.


	10. Chapter 10

As he dragged the wee goddess outside, Dubric debated within in himself: tell her or not tell her? If he told her—exposed the fact that Death himself had sent him to stop her—he risked her fleeing and disappearing into the ether. But if he didn't spill the beans, how did he explain his need to be near her, to follow her and stop her? Still debating the issue, he turned to confront her on the small path outside Van Hall. What he saw completely derailed, crashed, and exploded his train of thought. The rising sun illuminated her face and softened her features. Upon seeing her so, his sucked-in breath forcibly burst from him. A part of him, a part he had thought long forgotten, bellowed "_MINE._"The Instinct was back, and the intensity of it staggered Dubric. Over the millennia, it had faded becoming quieter and less frequent, until a few months after he entered Death's employment, it disappeared all together.

"_Mine, mine, mine_" it chanted over and over again as it clawed in his chest. Suddenly, there was too much space between the two of them. He needed to touch her, see if her skin was as soft as it looked. He was at her side without consciously realizing what was happening. Gently, he cupped her cheek, slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth. As the pain of pins and needles—indicative of his blood supply being cut off—slowly spread from his fingers, he recalled himself. He quickly withdrew his hand and took the step back he hadn't realized he'd taken in the first place.

Kiandra arched an eyebrow at him, clearly waiting for an explanation. He racked his brain for an answer that wouldn't send her to the hills, but none came. Time for plan two—distract with randomness.

"Is that bat I smell on you?" he blurted out. The question obviously threw her, but she answered nevertheless.

"Yes, Nix had one of the little creatures, some sort of weird soothsayer pet. It was squished between us as we hugged." Now obviously curious, she lifted part of her shirt to her nose and inhaled. Unsatisfied, she let her shirt drop. "I guess the Lykae nose must be as good as legend has it. I smell nothing."

"You'll find most things about us live up to legend," he said with a slight smile, a smile that she missed given that she was still contemplating her shirt.

Seeming to make a decision, she pulled out a band of leather from her pocket and held it under Dubric's nose. "Do you smell anything?" she asked.

Seeing what Dubric assumed was hope in her eyes, he reached out to hold her hand and the leather still. He let out a small breath and then inhaled deeply.

"I smell much, which one are you curious about?" he inquired. He continued to stare down into her face without relinquishing her hand.

"I'm not sure really. I have heard his scent described as incense. Got any of that?"

"Yes, it's the strongest one. Who is _he_?" Dubric fought with himself to not growl out the last question. While the logical part of his brain assured him that _he_ was only her brother, his newly awakened instinct screamed that _he_ could be another man, a lover even. If the latter was the case, the man would soon find himself bereft of a head.

"Brother," Kiandra responded without hesitation. "Long estranged. I am trying to find him…was trying to find him at the rock concert too. Don't suppose you could follow his trail?"

"Yes, I could." He could see her wheels turning.

She broke eye contact, and only then seemed to realize that his hand still engulfed hers. She tugged. Dubric let her hand slide from his grasp. She toyed with the leather strip for a moment.

"Oh gods, this is such a bad idea" she mumbled. Then, lifting her eyes back to his, she inquired, "Will you help me track him down?"

Dubric couldn't believe his luck. She just supplied him with the reason that he so desperately needed. But, he couldn't give in too easily lest he frighten her.

"Why should I?" he replied, trying to keep his cool.

"I'm surprised. Given that you appear to have been _stalking_ me, I would've thought you'd have jumped at the chance to be near me."

"Maybe I just wanted to get even. Your attack on me did quite a number."

"Really, we're back to that again? You Lyakes know how to hold a grudge."

"You did kill me."

"You did try to abduct me. I claim self defense."

"I'll give you that, but you didn't have to kill me."

"Oh, what else could I have done? I seriously lack your height or your build. Physically overpowering you is completely out of the question. And, as I have no claws or fangs, getting your attention that way was also a no-go. I did what I had to. Now are you going to help me or not?"

"Yes, fine. But we need to go somewhere that he's been more recently. The only trace of his scent here is from that bracelet you carry."

"The last time I saw him was at the concert. Do you think you could track his scent from there?"

"It's worth a try I suppose, though that was almost a week ago and any trace left is going to be hard to follow."

"Then, there is no time to lose," Kiandra said with purpose. She turned on her heels and marched back up to Van Hall. Seeing no choice, he followed her, not sure how going back inside sped up their travel. His car—an Aston Martin One-77—sat gleaming down the street. Surely, his car was the fastest way to get to the airport.

Dubric entered the house just as Emmaline brought a glass of water into the war room. A spot had been cleared amongst all the maps and books. That was where she set the glass. Kiandra stood waiting for him next to the table and the glass.

"Come on then," she said as she gestured for him to come over to her.

"Why?" Dubric asked with his brow wrinkled. "I thought we were in haste. My car awaits outside. I assure you it is very fast."

"However fast your car may be, it doesn't top my method of travel," she replied and gestured to the glass with a nod of her head. It still didn't makes sense, how did a glass of water? Oh, that did make sense. Kiandra is the Goddess of Water.

"We are traveling via water?"

"Yes."

"That small glass of water?"

"Yes."

"You are sure we will fit?"

"Of course, just as Mariketa uses mirrors as portals, I, too, use water. Now, stop being such a wuss and come on."

"I dunno. This still strikes me as completely wrong." Dubric eyed the innocuous glass of water with apprehension. He couldn't see how they were going to fit.

"It's not that bad actually," Lachlain's voice rumbled from the doorway. He leaned against the frame watching their exchange with a smile. "Sure, you feel like you are dissolving, but you coagulate on the other side."

"Bloody great," Dubric muttered.

"So you're ready then? Good," interjected Kiandra in an attempt to stave off any further objections. "Now, come here. A firm grip is best. Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on."

Dubric did as he was told. Almost immediately, the world began to slowly fade to black around him. And as the light receded, he couldn't help himself from alternately cursing the gods for his fate and fervently praying for their divine intervention.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hear ye, hear ye! I am in the process of combining and editing the previous chapters to account for inconsistencies, so if this story has fewer chapters soon that's why. Also, I feel that this chapter is pushing the boundary for the T rating, the next may push it to M, you have been warned.**

Kiandra had to own, there was something nice about being held so tightly by the Lyake. His big frame pressed against her afforded her a comfort and security she, if she was perfectly honest with herself, had never felt before. She could see how this could get addicting.

Their passage through the water portal was uneventful, but she still relished the feel after so many years without even a drop of moisture. And when they coagulated on the deserted field that had served as the mosh pit during the concert, Kiandra found herself in very high spirits indeed.

"See, no harm done! And we're already here," she said happily. But, Dubric did not seem so happy. He said nothing but relinquished her and began shaking his long hair like a dog trying to shake water—despite the fact that he was perfectly dry—from his coat.

"That was the most profoundly disturbing thing I have ever done, and I have a long history of doing disturbing things," Dubric muttered.

"Come now, it cannot have been that bad!"

"No, you're right. I relish feeling like I am dissolving, then drowning, then being jammed back together like a fucking Lego kit!"

"What's a Lego kit?"

"It a set of interlocking bricks that you give to kids…never mind. Next time we go by car, it may be slower, but if you want my help, you will have to suffer it," Dubric concluded with an authoritative tone. He then set off across the field towards the backstage. Kiandra had no choice but to follow, jogging slightly to keep pace with his larger strides.

Dubric marched through the backstage, following some scent that entirely eluded Kiandra. They walked straight through the area in which they had had their confrontation earlier and on towards the dressing rooms stopping in front of the one labeled with a flaking "3." Testing the handle, Dubric found it unlocked. Casting the door open, he hesitantly stepped inside.

"The trail ends here," he said. "It was still strong outside, incense just like from that leather band, and only one trail leading here. In here though, it's gotten all muddled and mixed with something…else, I can't quite describe it. As absurd as it sounds, it smells like _air_. That mean anything to you?"

"Oh yes. It means that I may just get to kill two birds with one stone," Kiandra responded with a hard glint coming into her eye. "But you said the trail ends here? There's no way of knowing where they went?"

"Not from the scents alone, no. If they used some sort of portal, a witch or other magic wielder may be able to track it though."

"No, this was no ordinary sort of magic. This was elemental. Just as I travel through water, my sister can travel through air—we become part of the element. A witch would have just as much luck tracking a drop of water once it's fallen into a pond as she would trying to track one of us. Come on, there is nothing more for us her," she said. Turning on her heel, she walked out of the room. Now, it was Dubric rushing to keep up with her.

"What now then?" he asked.

"Now we return to Van Hall. My original intention had been to talk with Nix only she disappeared before I was given the chance."

"Alright, the nearest airport is about an hour that way," Dubric asserted as he pointed off in an easterly direction.

"Really? You are sticking with your absurd hatred of water travel? It's going to take _days_ to get back to New Orleans your way."

"Do you want my help?"

"Yes. But, you know I won't actually need your nose until I get a lead. I could take myself back through the water and you could meet me there later."

"Or I could not meet you there at all. Remember, I am doing you this favor. If you want my help, you play by my rules." The goddess glared angrily up at him. Dubric was pushing it and he knew it, but he really had no other choice. After a prolonged silence, she sighed, and gave in.

"If we are traveling by plane, you are paying. My money is, as far as I know, at the bottom of the ocean along with my city."

"Fine, I have more than enough money to cover the both of us. However, money doesn't make cars appear out of thin air. So, we are going to have to walk to the airport." At this pronouncement, Kiandra cast another withering glare straight into his face. Seemingly oblivious to this reproach, Dubric started slowly walking off, humming quietly to himself.

break

"No, no, no! This is not an airport!" Kiandra squealed as they broke through the tree lined path and came into the clearing. The sun was at last creeping above the horizon. In that faint light, Kiandra could see before them a solitary runway, which was old and faded. The concrete remained mostly intact with only a few cracks across its surface. Next to the runway sat an empty building, or at least Kiandra assumed that it was empty given that all of the lights were off. Despite the lack of people, the building seemed well maintained, with a fresh coat of green pain on the outside. Still, this was hardly what she had had in mind. "This is a poorly paved death trap with no planes," she moaned.

"There's aught wrong with the pavement and there are no planes 'cause I haven't called for them yet."

"What?"

"Did you think that we would be traveling on a public plane? With all those humans about?"

"A private plane?" Kiandra repeated dumbly.

"Aye," Dubric replied, still not giving her much attention and continuing toward the building. The thought of a private plane improved Kiandra's spirits slightly, especially if it included big, comfy seats. It had been three hours since their arrival at the concert grounds. While the walk should have taken only maybe an hour, they had arrived in the dark and the lack of light has slowed them greatly, well it had slowed her greatly. The damn Lyake seemed fine in the night, navigating around every pothole and branch on the road—every pothole and branch that Kiandra managed to step on. She had tripped and fallen more times than she could count and every time Dubric would laugh that distractingly deep laugh and offer to carry her. Only her pride had stopped her from accepting.

"Come on then!" Dubric called. He had gotten the door opened and stood holding it open for her. She jogged over and entered the building. The rising sunlight barely made it through the window. Hence, most of the things in the room remained black blobs to Kiandra's eyes. Carefully, she shuffled forward. She could hear Dubric behind her, closing the door. When he flicked on the lights, Kiandra's pupils screamed in protest and she covered her eyes with her hands.

"Agh! Warn me next time!" Kiandra proclaimed. She could hear Dubric's laugh, why was he always laughing at her?

"For such a powerful goddess you seem a might…feeble sometimes," he said. She could _hear_ the smile in his voice.

"Bugger off, we're not all creatures of the night like you," she muttered. Carefully, she lowered her hands but kept her eyes closed, giving them time to adjust. Then, with equal caution, she opened them to take stock of her surroundings.

The building was obviously not often occupied. Yet, like the outside, it was kept in good shape. A row of tall windows, all of which were surprisingly clean, overlooked the runway. Inside, the walls were painted with the same green paint as the outside. The floor remained bare concrete. A large white leather couch sat facing the windows. In one corner, stood a small kitchenette with an old wooden table and chairs in front of it. In the other corner, was a door, leading presumably to a bathroom. On the back wall, hung a telephone—the one thing that had attracted Dubric. Kiandra hadn't heard him dial anything, but there he stood by the wall, receiver to his ear listening intently.

"Aye. Delta-Bravo-Romeo-Charlie," he spoke into the phone. After waiting a minute, he put the handset back and turned towards Kiandra. "The nearest plane is in San Francisco, and it will be in the air within the hour. That still means that we have about two to three hours to wait. You hungry?"

He moved into the kitchenette and began rummaging around in the freezer, not waiting for Kiandra's response. Unsure what to do with herself, Kiandra sat on one of the wooden chairs by the table, pointedly choosing the one furthest from fridge. After a moment, Dubric reemerged from the freezer his arms laden with frozen foods.

"There's nothing fresh 'cause this place isn't used very often, but there should be enough frozen food to make a decent breakfast," he proclaimed as he laid everything on the counter. "Okay, so we have frozen cinnamon rolls, frozen sausage, frozen waffles, frozen hash browns, and something that's mostly iced over but I can make out the phrase 'breakfast of champions.' What sounds good?"

"Whatever you want, I'm not too picky," came Kiandra's reply. To be honest, she wasn't sure what cinnamon rolls or waffles were. They sure didn't have them in Atlantis, but she wasn't going to tell the Lyake that. Also, she was grappling with this new, domestic Dubric. Earlier he had been so focused, playfully maybe, but never really interested in her. Now, he was making food for her. When he lifted his shirt to use it as purchase on a stubborn container and flashed Kiandra a shot of his lower back, she had to grip the edges of the table to force herself to stay in her seat. The man had dimples there, too. Two little indents just above the curve of his butt. And when he bent over to fiddle with some strange metal looking box, she had a glorious view of that jean-clad ass. Kiandra never realized that she was a "butt girl," perhaps, it was just his.

"Oi, Goddess of Water, come here and add water to this frozen juice," Dubric called without turning around. Swallowing a gulp before she could stand, Kiandra made her way near enough to grab the proffered tube of frozen juice concentrate.

"There should be containers for that over there," he indicated with a finger pointing to the cabinets above the sink. "And the water from the tap should be fine, but I would let it run for a minute first."

"Right," Kiandra responded absently, already moving toward the sink and doing her upmost to focus on the task, rather than the man engaged in making her food. The containers were just as he said. She grabbed a plastic jug. When she turned on the tap, brown water flowed out. As she let it run, the liquid turned clear, and then she filled the jug. Now what? As her eyeballs ping ponged between the filled jug and the tube of concentrate, she eventually noticed the instructions on the orange juice container. Pitcher of water—check. Tube of concentrate—check. Mix together. How? Kiandra saw no utensils about and loathed to ask _that man_ for help. Ah, no problem. As she deposited the contents of the tube into the jug, the water began to swirl around and around forming a small whirlpool that made quick work of mixing the juice. Ah, the perks of being the Goddess of Water she thought smugly.

Her orange juice task completed, she turned and fetched herself another jug, just as big as the juice one. And like the first one, she filled this second container with water. But unlike its predecessor, this one she lifted to her mouth and began to drink from greedily. She drained half of it before pulling it from her lips. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she began to move back toward her seat, taking her water jug with her. However, before she took even a step, the Lykae quashed her plans.

"Where do you think you're going? Come lay the sausages out on a plate and put them in the microwave," he commanded.

"I thought you were cooking?"

"I am. I am cooking the cinnamon rolls, the hash browns, and the waffles. I have given you the easiest thing. Think you can do it?" the Lykae teased, turning to flash her a challenging smile.

"Yes, of course! But you haven't even told me where the plates are," she retorted as she grabbed the sausages from the counter. He moved back to the box that he had fiddled with earlier, opened the front door, checked on the platters of food inside, and closed the door again.

"Over there," Dubric said pointing now towards a different set of cabinets. Sure enough, the plates were where he had pointed.

"How do you know this place so well?" Kiandra idly wondered aloud.

"All these places are built from a template. There all the same really. Different furnishings, different food, but the same basic design."

"And what are these places?"

"We call them drop points—small airports all over the world that are for the servants of my employer."

"Employer?" That was something new. "Who the hell do you work for?"

"Who the hell indeed," Dubric murmured before asking louder, "How are the sausages coming?"

"Fine!" Kiandra lied. While she had managed to put them on the plate, she wasn't quite sure what to do now. Like the orange juice container, the package of sausages had instructions. However, having no idea what a "microwave" was, the instructions were less than useless. She was sure that this thing called a "microwave" would be hot. Yet, the only thing hot in the room was the large, metal box that Dubric had put the other food in. Quietly, she eased towards it, hoping not to attract his attention. As she opened the door, the disobliging appliance let out a horrible squeak and betrayed her.

"What are you doing, lass?" Dubric said, laughing at her again.

"Putting the sausages in the microwave. What do you think I am doing?" Kiandra replied, now on the defensive.

"I canna say, but I can tell you that's no microwave, that's an oven," he purred patronizingly. "That is a microwave." Dubric now pointed to a smaller metal box over the oven.

Kiandra quickly straightened, opened the microwave door (which didn't squeak), placed the sausages inside, and the shut the door. The box didn't feel warm, so she had no idea how the sausages were going to cook, but she wasn't going to be laughed at again for asking. Hoping that this was the end of her duties, she tried to inch back to her chair only to be stopped yet again by Dubric's laugh.

"What have I done now?!" she complained.

"You have to turn it on if you want them to cook."

"I knew that!...How do you turn it on?"

"You put the time in here," he instructed as he moved behind her. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and fought herself from leaning back onto him. He lifted his arm, punched five minutes into the machine, and then pressed the start button. The machine came to life with a gentle whirr. A light turned on illuminating the food inside. For a moment, Kiandra was distracted. Then she became aware that the Lyake wasn't moving away. He just stayed there, looming behind her.

"I think I have it now. Don't you have other foods to attend to?" She was going to turn to face him, but in such close quarters, she thought better of it. Luckily, her speech broke whatever trance he had been in. He immediately moved back to the counter where the food was. She waited until the machine dinged. Carefully, she opened the door, removed the plate of sausages, and poked them. They seemed warm. Damn the man! Putting them back into the machine to stay warm, she once again tried to retreat to her chair. This time she was allowed to do so. The next twenty minutes or so passes quietly, Dubric bustling about the kitchen and Kiandra doing her best not to watch him.

"_Think of Caius,"_ she scolded herself as she tried to block out the attractive male parading around in front of her. It was her cruel brother's fault that she was here now to start with. It was her brother who deprived her of hundreds, no thousands of years of freedom. It was her brother that locked her in a tomb to die of thirst more times than she could count. It was her brother who locked her in a tomb to be ravaged by _wendigos._ It was her brother that had _sunk her city_! Death would be too kind for him. No, Kiandra had heard that Fury had been chained to the bottom of the ocean. Perhaps, she should find out if that was true and whether she would be willing to change places with her brother. Just as Caius imprisoned her earth, so she would imprison him in water.

Her dark musings were shattered when a plate laden with food slid across the table to her. Looking up, she found Dubric standing by her, offering her a fork. Hesistantly, she took the utensil from his hand, ignoring the slight shiver that radiated from where their fingers briefly touched.

"Eat up." His voice sounded somewhat hoarser and deeper. An odd occurrence, but one she did not stop to consider as she surveyed the plate before her. She was not quite sure where to start. It all smelled delicious. The sausage being the only thing she was truly certain about, she assayed it first. That first bite of food exploded with taste in her mouth, and she soon found herself attacking all the food with the same gumption as Dubric displayed. She had no true need for food, water alone sustained her. However, that didn't stop the food from tasting amazing.

They both concentrated on eating for a time. Hence, the only sounds to fill the small building were the clink of silverware against plates. At last, they both had their fill and pushed their plates away.

"That was delicious! Is all food in this era so good?" Kiandra marveled. Once again, Dubric laughed. Knowing, that this time, she wasn't truly the source of his mirth, she could appreciate the full, richness of his chuckles. Stealing a glance at this face, she definitely decided that a smile looked good on him.

"Better!" he boomed out with yet another grin. "This is just the frozen stuff, wait till you try fresh."

Kiandra found herself returning his smile, and even began laughing along with him. She should be focused on revenge, but between her full stomach and Dubric's incredibly contagious laugh, she couldn't help herself from enjoying the moment.

Sitting across from her, Dubric felt as if there was a hiccup in time. He had long ago grudgingly admitted that the lass was an incredible beauty. Now, with a smile illuminating her face and her eyes brilliant with merriment, her splendor stopped him in his thoughts. Though hardly a millisecond passed, he swore it had to have been an eternity. He would gladly spend forever just gazing at her exquisite face. And, then that word came rushing back—"Mine…Mine…_MINE_!" Like Kiandra, he had studiously ignored the thrill that radiated from their fingertips when handing her the fork. And, blast it all, he was now damned well going to ignore THAT word as well.

"Come on now, we'd better clean up." He sounded unduly brusque even to his own ears. Checking himself, he moderated his tone and asked politely, "If I wash, will you dry?"

"Alright, I am sure I can manage that," she replied, a smile still illuminating her face. They had not used many dishes, but they were still enough to fill the small sink. Pouring soap into the sink, Dubric let the basin fill up with water before he began to scrub the first plate.

"Towels are in that drawer," Dubric informed her, using his foot to point to the bottom drawer near the sink.

"Why would I need a towel?"

"To—dry—the—dishes?" Dubric spoke slowly as if talking to a simpleton. Now, it was Kiandra's turn to laugh.

"I'm the Goddess of Water. I don't need a towel."

"Right, this I've got to see." Giving her the plate he had just rinsed off, Dubric stood with patent disbelief etched on his face. With a mock concentration, Kiandra turned her will towards the plate, pulled all of the water off it so that if formed a nice ball, and then let the neat, little water ball drop down the drain.

"Is it satisfactorily dry?" she inquired, with fake gravitas.

"Very, continue." So they did. Dubric washed and rinsed. Kiandra pulled all the water from the dishes into little balls that drop down the drain. If she was honest, she was showing off a bit. There was no reason to form the water into the ball. She could just command it all down the drain and let it go whichever way it chooses. However, she liked how the side of Dubric's mouth would twitch toward a smile every time a water ball fell down the drain. At last, they came to the last plate. By then, an idea had formed in Kiandra's mind. A way to get back at Dubric for all those times he'd laughed at her. This time, when she formed a ball of water, she didn't let it drop down the drain. Waiting until Dubric had turned toward her, she hurled the water ball straight at his chest. There it splattered like a water balloon, drenching the middle of his grey t-shirt. Laughing, she quickly set the plate down then began to move away. The look of shock on Dubric's face was something she would treasure forever.

Deep within his chest, a growl started. Hearing it, Kiandra instinctively took flight, running for shelter behind the couch. She needn't have tried. Dubric was upon her before she had taken even two steps, his arms like iron bands around her waist.

"You are going to pay for this," he growled low in her ear. Yet, Kiandra remained unafraid. Something in his tone told her that his words were more "bark" than "bite." Confident that she still had the upper hand, laughter burst out of her again. Dubric spun her about to face him, trapping her between his larger body and the counter. Peeping into his face, Dubric looked totally befuddled.

"You—should have seen—your face!" she gasped out through fits of laughter. Suddenly, Dubric's face split into a warm grin, too.

"Twas a good joke; that I'll give you" he said, joining in her laughter. And for a few moments, they were content to share in mirth. Then as their laughs quieted, their eyes connected again and something instantly changed. Just as before, Kiandra had the strongest urge to just tackle him and snog him silly, only this time she couldn't remember why she shouldn't. So, with an internal shrug, she pulled his head down to hers.

Their lips collided. As kisses go, this one was not a _nice _kiss. There was no nice teasing or playful nipping. From the moment that their lips touched, just rough passion possessed them. They were all teeth and tongues. Kiandra couldn't get enough. She grasped more tightly at his head, trying to pull them closer together. Dubric's hands found their way to her ass, kneading it for a moment before cupping it and lifting her onto the counter. Her legs parted happily for him. He stepped possessively between them, grinding against her as if their clothes were not still on. Kiandra needed even more. She began tugging at his t-shirt desperate to dispatch the foul cloth that stopped her from touching the skin on his chest and back. Eager to oblige her and to feed his own need for skin-to-skin contact, Dubric broke the kiss just long enough to get the material over his head. Then, he was back, his tongue dancing with hers and his hands roaming over her legs. Greedy to explore the flesh he had just exposed, she ran her hands over his arms and shoulders. He was all hard muscles, and as she felt him move against her hands, something deep and primal in her responded. Thus, when Dubric's hands—who had been slowly making their own way up her body—grasped her breasts, she totally forgot about his muscles and arched high into his hands, eager for more.

BANG! BANG! BANG! The quick knocks came at the door. Like a cool pail of water poured over their heads, those damned knocks promptly pulled them out of their passion induced haze.

"Hello? Master Dubric? Hello?" a voice called through the door. With a look that promised that they were not done yet, Dubric move away to allow Kiandra to hop off the counter. He then called out to the man outside.

"We're here! Give us a few minutes to collect our things."

Kiandra picked up Dubric's t-shirt from where it had fallen on the floor. A large wet stain remained, but she just pulled the water out from the fabric and sent the resulting ball of water off to fall down the sink. She passed the shirt back to Dubric and took one last look at his glorious chest as he pulled it over his head.

"Come on, we've got a plane to catch." Dubric gruff voice broke into her reverie. Striding across the room while adjusting his trousers, he opened the door for her.


End file.
